


Collateral Damage

by Lovefushsia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angry discussion of feelings, Dialogue Heavy, Kissing, M/M, Protective Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:59:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovefushsia/pseuds/Lovefushsia
Summary: "Derek, for fuck's sake-" He wasn't scared. He wasn't. But what the fuck? His voice was shaking and he had the sudden urge to push against that solid chest just to see if he could move Derek at all. The very real belief that he wouldn't be able to stopped him from moving, he just stared into Derek's face, trying to work out the colours of his eyes, wishing this was all very different, willing his skin to stop shivering, for the goosebumps to go away.





	Collateral Damage

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by that beautiful art where Derek has Stiles pressed up against the wall and he's all growly and Stiles' clothes are all torn up... *happy sigh*

Derek shoved and Stiles fell back against the wall, most of the air leaving his lungs as he hit, but he watched with detached horror as the werewolf that had been after him fell to the ground ten feet away, Derek's claws and teeth having made sure he wouldn't be getting up again.

Derek crowded into Stiles' space before he could even catch a breath, hands under his armpits holding him up against the wall, so close Stiles could only see the glow of his crimson eyes as he glared. 

"What the hell, dude?" Stiles spluttered.

"Are you hurt?"

Stiles looked down, trying to pull his hoodie over his chest. "No, I don't think-" Stiles started, still out of breath but not feeling like he was bleeding anywhere important.

Derek didn't move or let him go at all. "Why do you do that? Put yourself in harm's way? What the hell were you even doing here?" Derek demanded, features still partially wolfed out.

"I have to look out for Scott," Stiles said, going for his instinctive response.

"Scott's not here, it's just me."

"Yeah, well who looks out for you? Huh?" Well shit, he hadn't actually meant to say that out loud.

Derek pushed him a little harder into the wall as he growled, "I don't need anyone." 

Stiles forced himself not to react, not to cringe away even as he felt himself began to panic. He wasn't scared of Derek Hale. "Sure ok, whatever dude."

Derek shoved himself back and roared again and somehow Stiles knew it was at himself this time and wasn't directed at Stiles. It didn't help though. 

Derek backed further away, clawed fingers clenching into fists and Stiles let his head fall back, huffing at the roof of the warehouse. He didn't know what he was doing, following Derek here. What had he been thinking? When he looked back, shivering now with the cold, the damp, the lingering shock, Derek was right there, gentle, human hands prodding at his torso, his arms, checking him over. 

"Hey, dude, stop it, I'm fine. I'm fine."

Derek scowled but stopped the touching. He paced away a bit, coming back around and demanding again, "You do this all the time, I can't-" His voice dropped to a broken whisper. "I can't lose anyone else."

Stiles grasped onto that thread for all he was worth, much better than having Derek start thinking about Stiles following him, checking up on him, wanting to be there for him as much as for Scott. "You're worried about collateral damage, right? I get it. I know I'm not your pack, but I have to look out for Scott, that's why I stay around-"

There was another resounding roar and Derek was in his face again, pinning him to the wall, as if Stiles weighed nothing at all. "What? Collateral- Stiles, no-" He growled again and Stiles just shook his head at him.

"Derek, for fuck's sake-" He wasn't scared. He wasn't. But what the fuck? His voice was shaking and he had the sudden urge to push against that solid chest just to see if he could move Derek at all. The very real belief that he wouldn't be able to stopped him from moving, he just stared into Derek's face, trying to work out the colours of his eyes, wishing this was all very different, willing his skin to stop shivering, for the goosebumps to go away.

Something in Derek's face though turned from outright anger to something...less, and he eased up a little. Stiles' heart was still pounding painfully though as he stood there, still supported by Derek's hands.

"Stiles, you're not collateral." He gripped at Stiles' arms now, looking him over, probably taking in the huge mess that Stiles had been turned into. It made Stiles both more nervous and irrationally turned on to be given this much attention. 

"You're part of my pack whether you think so or not and I don't want you getting hurt - not ever."

Stiles forced himself to relax a little, looking down at himself, seeing his torn shirt hanging off him in tatters, scrapes covering his torso, bruises already forming, the blood splattered across his chest - he knew most of that wasn't his but it didn't really matter. He tried to pull his hoodie more firmly around himself but Derek didn't give him an inch.

"Fuck, Derek, could you-"

Derek stepped back almost instantly as if Stiles' voice was all he needed to be moved. 

Unfortunately, not having Derek's hands on him seemed to mean Stiles' muscles would have to start doing their job again and he stumbled a little as he tried to take off his hoodie and plaid shirt, pulling the wrecked tshirt off as Derek watched him from a foot away. 

"One of my favourites," Stiles muttered as he dropped it on the sodden ground. 

Derek reached to pick it up as Stiles fastened his shirt buttons with shaking fingers, pulling his hoodie back on and tugging on the zip until he felt slightly less shaky from the cold. 

"Can you fix it?" Derek said holding the shirt up, as if he was trying to decipher what the print had been. 

Stiles shook his head sadly. "No, man, it's ruined." Derek shoved it away behind him and stood watching Stiles again. "But I'm fine. I didn't really get hurt." Derek growled again and Stiles shivered, murmuring "Fuck," to himself as he willed his body to stop reacting at all. Derek did not need to see him like this.

"You're not fine, Stiles." 

"I will be," Stiles said, stubborn and firm. "Always am."

Derek backed off then, turning away and Stiles ran both hands over his short hair, breathing, trying to steady his heartbeat. 

"Fuck, Stiles - why?" Derek asked again, exasperated. "Why would you put yourself in danger like that? Even if Scott was here - it's not your responsibility." He stopped and stared as Stiles just looked at him, completely unable to say anything that he was thinking at that moment.

"What do you want me to say, dude? I'm drawn to danger. Super Stiles to the rescue. Stilinski Strikes Back - I'm just useful like that." 

"You nearly got killed," Derek growled, stepping into Stiles' space yet again and Stiles' breath  caught. 

"I'm sorry," Derek said, kind of soft, for Derek. "I don't want to scare you."

Stiles let out a chuckle. "I'm not scared, dude. Just, personal space, you know?"

Derek frowned. "But your heart keeps racing."

Stiles forced himself not to look away. "Yeah, can't help it," he said, swallowing hard.

"I don't scare you?" Derek asked.

"Nuh-uh."

Derek moved closer, one hand pressed to the wall beside Stiles' head. "When did that happen?"

"What?"

"When did your pulse start to race when I get close?" Derek clarified, and Stiles nearly choked.  _ Oh God _ .

"Like, a week after I met you?"

"You had your dad arrest me," Derek gritted out. "You're attracted to felons?"

"You're not a felon," Stiles murmured.

Derek blinked, his green, brown, fucking rainbow eyes looking at Stiles as if he'd changed into a lizard person. Stiles looked down at himself just to be sure. 

"You're attracted to werewolves?" Derek asked. 

Stiles shook his head. "Just you. Only you," he whispered harshly. 

Derek grabbed him then, pressing his shoulders into the wall and frowning at Stiles like he didn't know what the hell to do with him.

"How about you," Stiles said, somehow managing words, hands clenching at his sides, wanting, desperate to touch. "You just want to protect your pack? Prevent that collateral damage? Or…"  The rest of his sentence turned into a ridiculous muffled noise as Derek's lips pressed onto Stiles' lips and Stiles' head went back and hit the wall and when Derek pulled back Stiles said, "Ow."

"Or."

"What?" Stiles blurted, shaken and barely even able to blink.

"You said 'or'. It's  _ or _ . I want you. Just you." His voice was barely human again and Stiles' legs were weak, his stomach flipping and his need to touch was overwhelming. He grabbed the front of Derek's shirt, pulling him closer. 

"Well, why the fuck didn't you say something?"

Derek glared some more before moving in again, his torso pressing against Stiles' palm, hands gripping Stiles' shoulders, sliding to his biceps, crowding him and kissing him again. Stiles just went placid, completely willing to let Derek move his lips however he wanted; totally unable to do anything useful, other than cling to Derek's' shirt and try not to fall down.

"Stop following me into danger," Derek grunted between kisses. 

Stiles shoved ineffectually at his chest, just as he'd thought. "No fucking way," he whispered. 

Derek growled again and flashed his eyes and Stiles smirked and pulled him closer. 


End file.
